Hermione and Draco reflect on their relationship; truths are told as major change looms…

55. Magda Malfoy

'You've no idea how many times I imagined fucking you while I was staying here,' Draco said dreamily. 'The air in this squalid little place was thick with unrequited lust.'

It was late morning and Paris was bathed in warm spring sunshine. Hermione and Draco had woken up late at the Hotel Danemark, slightly hungover from an impromptu whisky-sodden wake. Gunter and Niko had stopped by on their way to Geneva to handle the aftermath of the attack that killed their friends...

'You make it sound as though our relationship was one-sided, Draco!' Hermione exclaimed. 'I definitely lusted after you, too.'

'Yeah. But not as a full-time active profession I bet!' Draco turned to face her, twisting her into his arms. 'I was wanking for Britain in here. If wanking was an Olympic sport, I'd have taken triple gold!'

She burst out laughing, gazing up at him as she lay naked in his arms.

'You being here's kind of surreal, actually,' he said, sliding his hand down her body. 'The reality is SO much better than the fantasy...'

'Good,' she murmured, drawing him into a heated kiss, remembering with a melancholic pang that reality also meant heading back to Britain later; half-drowning in a sea of troubles.

'I'd like to do something nice today,' she said wistfully. 'Just the two of us.'

'We already are,' he said with an impish grin.

'You know what I mean… Something special. Something PARIS. '

'The calm before the shitstorm…'

'Well... we need to talk about Katya at some point. You know that, don't you?' she said tentatively.

Hermione had told everyone last night that overhearing Sylvestra and Dolores's conversation had all but confirmed her fears that Katya was trapped in a painting at Malfoy Manor...

Draco gazed at her, his eyes a soft, smoky grey – but there was a new seriousness in his expression. 'Not right now, though,' he murmured.

'No, not now.. maybe not even today. But soon...'

She stared up at him and her breathing hitched in her chest. His skin glowed gold and his tousled hair was a burnished halo – silvery strands quivering and glinting in the soft sunlight streaming through the open window.

'You look beautiful,' she smiled, pulling him close. She buried her face in his neck and breathed in the smell of him. She could feel his pulse beating against his warm skin.

He locked his arms tightly around her and his mouth sought hers and they were lost in each other. A heavy, aching pleasure blossomed deep inside of her as his hands caressed her slowly and deliberately, as though committing the moment to memory...

XXX

'Of course I was completely bonkers about you by the time I got to Paris, and had been for a long time,' Draco said, harking back to their earlier conversation. 'Probably before Argentina!'

They were walking down a shady, tree-lined avenue through the Tuileries gardens heading to The Orangerie – a small art gallery in the park, famous for Monet's Water Lilies. Hermione's 'Paris' day had already included a spot of shopping, a browse at a funky English-language bookstore by the Seine and a late, lazy lunch.

'Nonsense!' Hermione laughed. 'You loathed me. Don't pretend otherwise.'

'It's completely possible, you know, to not particularly value somebody's personality and still want to boff their brains out...' Draco said with a winning, radiant smile. 'I'll always remember that time we bumped into each other at that goddawful Ministry dinner and you got all pissed-up and deliciously vulnerable…'

'Le Bonheur? I wasn't PISSED, Draco. I was jinxed!'

Draco gave her a wry, sidelong smile. 'Well, that night I realised I wanted to know you more - and not just in the carnal sense. I found you interesting.'

They swerved to avoid a pack of pram-pushing mothers who had occupied almost the entire width of the path.

'You hid it well then, because you were VILE!'

Draco's hands suddenly danced around her waist and he spun her around to face him. 'And then when you turned up at Heathrow Airport, I was thrilled…'

'No you weren't. You were a right stroppy git!'

'Sure... but I had a massive hard-on...' Draco closed his eyes in rapturous reverie. 'You looked gorgeous! All hot and damp and windswept... And then in Argentina, I could barely look at you without wanting to snog your face off.'

'And yet still… you really weren't that nice to me,' she said tartly as they strolled on, heads bent close to each other. But as she spoke, she recalled the Argentine Memories - the way Draco's face softened when he looked at her.

'I was all over the place,' he admitted, 'because I'd fallen in love with you.'

'But you hardly knew me!'

'I knew enough. I knew you were strong and good and beautiful and brilliantly clever.'

'But… When? How?'

'I've kind of told you this before actually, but it was that night at Villa Ofelia – that was the clincher. That was when I knew for sure.'

'But we argued!' she shrilled, spluttering with laughter. 'You said some very hurtful things.'

'I was fucking dreadful... and realising I was in love with you comes across as a really pathetic excuse, I can see that...'

'You even SLEPT with someone!' she cried. 'That tarty girl you thought was dead.'

'An act of desperation!' he groaned. 'Trying to override my horror at my feelings for you by being a gutter-skank... but it made it worse. I still loved you and now I hated myself, too.'

He came to a halt and his face was inches from her own. 'But seriously, Hermione, I didn't know what to do! I was a mass of complication – and I'm not good at handling complicated I'm afraid. I just knew I wanted you more than anything in the world…' His eyes were warm and earnest. 'It was like all the lights had suddenly lit up as one on the display unit! No stuttering into life or false starts... Just THERE! Dazzling me… And I couldn't handle it.'

Hermione sighed deeply and a strange euphoria swept through her. 'The truth is… despite the fact you were a total prick, I missed you so much when I left Argentina… You'd got under my skin…'

'Something huge had happened ... but there was our fucked-up history - and you being married.'

She gave him a sharp look. 'Not just ME, Draco! YOU too!'

'Ron was – is - a more immediate issue, Hermione.'

'But at least I've left him, whereas you and Katya are just apart.'

'My marriage is over.'

'She doesn't know that…'

'No, she doesn't,' he said, chewing his lower lip pensively, 'but it's still true.'

They continued walking.

'She might still love you. Have you thought about that?' Hermione's words hung between them… 'And you loved her, too.'

He raised his eyes to the clear blue sky. 'I thought we weren't talking about this today?'

'You DID love her, Draco,' Hermione insisted. 'That night when you showed me the roses in her room; I could see it.'

'I honestly think I loved her more once she'd left!' Draco declared. 'I felt guilty as hell for being such a shitty husband. Convinced I'd driven her away…'

'No! Don't rewrite history… That's unhealthy!'

'I'm not! I can see the difference now. I loved her in a sort of grateful-she-wasn't-her-crazy-sister kind of way… but I wasn't IN love with her. Truth is, my opinion of her has changed dramatically - because things have changed. The FACTS have changed. I have doubts... grave doubts about so many things.'

Hermione stopped walking and encircled his waist with her arms and looked up at him. His whiteness was clean, bright – truthful. But there was anger, too...

'I always assumed you and Katya had this incredible, whirlwind romance, Draco.'

Draco gave her a thin smile. 'Not quite... She came to Malfoy Manor for Beltane and within a week I'd proposed. We married a month later.'

'That definitely qualifies as whirlwind!'

'But it was less a romance, than a marriage of convenience... And I'm lying if I say otherwise.' His face darkened. 'I desperately wanted away from Sylvestra, but the Malfoy fortune, our businesses, my father's medical needs, even our home were in hock to Ephraim and I feared he might pull the plug. So I figured I should SWAP sister.'

'That's so… cold.'

'It was. I was a total bastard. I vaguely remembered this sweet girl I'd met years before in Spain. So when Ephraim invited her to stay I played the part - her Prince Charming… and that was that.'

Hermione stared at him, dumbfounded.

'I'm not proud of myself,' Draco admitted, a rueful look on his face. 'And I knew, in my heart, that I was the fucking villain of the story. It was a totally cuntish thing to do.'

'It was.' Hermione reflected a moment. 'But you must have had feelings for her?'

'She was the Anti-Sylvestra! Pretty as porcelain with a tinkling laugh. Docile. Gentle. Kind…'

'Not THAT kind!' Hermione laughed. 'She stole her sister's boyfriend! I mean, Sylvestra's obviously a bitch, but even so…'

Draco gave her a shrewd look. 'Yes. I've wondered about that… I just assumed, back then, that she was a bit of a blank and oblivious to the Sylvestra situation.'

'A bit of a blank?' Hermione said, incredulous. 'That's not nice.'

'No… it's not,' he said looking uncomfortable. 'But she was very unknowable, Hermione… She was sweet, sedate, said the right thing… Ideal if you're the type of guy who wants their wife to shut up and look pretty. But I honestly can't remember her opinion on anything! Looking back, I was bored out of my skull.'

'That's... harsh, Draco,' Hermione said, a bit taken aback.

'Well. I don't like thinking about it much, but when I do, I have to be honest with myself.'

'Wasn't Ephraim upset when you suddenly switched daughter? It's hardly a sign of constancy in a potential son-in-law.'

Draco gave her a strange, lopsided smile. 'He was overjoyed, actually… She was secretly his favourite. And I'm pretty sure he warned Sylvestra not to kick up a fuss. The Malfoys were his entry point into society. And we now know how much he needed Herb Healing…'

'And by you marrying Katya, he could lock you in...'

'Exactly. A mutually beneficial transaction... And Sylvestra tolerated the situation because she could still live at Malfoy Manor. Being a big-headed twat I thought that was all about me... turns out it was my son she still wanted access to, for Dark Flux.' He gave Hermione a despairing, sardonic grin. 'I thought I was such a fucking player… turns out I was a bit of a clot.'

Hermione studied his face carefully. 'It can't all have been unhappy. You and Katya were having a child together.'

'I hoped that would fix things… And for a while I truly tried, played the part... you know.' He gazed at her and his soft grey eyes glistened in the sunlight. 'But I can now see my marriage was all kinds of wrong; an empty fucking waiting-room, begging something to turn up, because the sound of my own voice in my head was deafening me... I thought I'd been so very, very clever plotting my way out of hell, but got stuck in fucking purgatory… desperate to escape.'

'You could have spoken to Katya?' Hermione suggested. 'Maybe she was lonely, too?'

'Well, if only you'd been on hand to give me marriage guidance…' he said in ironic tones. 'But the truth is we had no real conversation beyond the here-and-now or the fucking furniture or my latest bloody business trip, and however much I tried I couldn't feel...' he hesitated, framing his words carefully, 'passionate about her... I mean, she was very beautiful – but like a painting more than a person… Or a beautiful child.'

Hermione instinctively recoiled.

'I mean, this isn't honourable of me... but I can't help but compare with you … When we have sex it feels honest and real and gloriously intimate. Just heart-pounding, head-spinning joy. It's like being free together… And that's how it should be.'

He held her face in his hands and she could sense his whiteness pulsating in fierce, silvery bursts. The busy park and the bright spring sunshine and the long shadows cast by the trees bordering the path fell away.

'I've never said any of that out loud before,' he said, his breath warm on her face. 'It's been stuck in my head… But with you I feel opened out, like I can breathe for the first time. Put thoughts into words… It feels amazing.'

She gazed at him, pink-cheeked. 'I don't know when I fell in love with you, Draco, or how… I realised it at your mother's wedding. But I already loved you so, so much, because when I was with you I had this palpable, crazy, wonderful feeling of being both at home and on a grand journey - all at the same time…' She grinned. 'I think that might be what love is.'

He brushed his lips against hers, like a splash of soft, warm rain… and she suddenly yearned to be closer.

'Do – do you want to go back to the hotel?'

'Yes,' he replied instantaneously, 'but…you wanted to do something PARIS. You wanted to see the Monets.' He glanced at The Orangerie to their right. 'And here they are… We'll go back afterwards.'

'Straight away.'

'Absolutely… No fannying around in the gift shop.'

XXX

'It's like a dream…' Hermione sighed as they wandered around the blindingly white oval rooms of The Orangerie. Enormous rectangular slabs of luminous colour… vivid, hallucinatory, sensual… travelled in a seamless parade around the walls, encircling them. The same scene – Water Lilies in a verdant, indigo pond – were repeated over and over; each time a little different, a little hazier, mesmerising.

Hermione was entranced. 'Oh to go into one of THESE… it'd be like walking through heaven itself,' she groaned. 'Imagine it, Draco… This is what ecstasy looks like.'

Draco clasped her hand in his own and gazed at the paintings. 'It feels pure.'

Hermione could sense a peculiar, fluttering shift in the pit of her stomach when he touched her and a warm vibration surged up her spine, oozing like clean, silvery fluid throughout her body. She felt transported into a soothing, heady white bliss, humming in her mind.

She turned to Draco and he was flushed, slightly breathless.

'Our magic…' he whispered. 'It's combined.'

She wanted to sink into his eyes – lustrous, velvet-grey - and could almost feel herself slipping and her heart suddenly raced inside of her.

'We have to go,' she breathed, sad that this oddly hypnotic trance had to end.

As they left the gallery she noticed passers-by staring…

'Were we glowing?' she asked, once they reached the fresh air and the feel of the sun on their skin and the rushing onslaught of sounds – traffic and people and car horns tooting impatiently at La Place de la Concorde.

'I think so,' Draco grinned. 'That was fucking incredible. Felt like an orgasm in my head!'

'It was the magic. Both types.'

Draco raised his eyebrows. 'We Anteracted?' He took her by the hand and led her away from the gallery.

'I guess so…' She couldn't stop smiling. 'We need to work out what triggered it.'

XXX

'There's been another bloody Dark Flux attack,' Harry said, ushering Hermione and Draco into his living-room. 'Even made the French news…'

'Oh no,' Hermione said, lowering herself onto the Potter's stylish yet uncomfortable sofa. The day's sunshine was suddenly extinguished. 'What happened?'

'Four victims. Some kind of street fair in a town called Spalding. Gunter and Niko are heading there from Geneva to investigate further.'

'Is that in one of Ephraim's Domains?'

'Great Fen… always puzzled me, that one. There's no wizarding population. Based on the corundum communications, Thelonious thinks that Argentine chap, Asusto, carried it out.'

'Fuck's sake,' Draco muttered darkly. 'We need to find this guy and kill him.'

Harry nodded vigorously. Hermione could see her face reflected in his glasses – surprised, even disappointed. 'Isn't it better to put him on trial, Harry?'

'I want Ephraim on trial,' Harry said, 'but I couldn't give a stuff if someone takes out this murdering bastard… and that Josep creep, too,' he added in acid tones.

'Do you want to put Salvedra on trial?' Draco asked. 'He's the crux of all this shit.'

'We'd have to catch him first,' Hermione said sourly, which struck her as a very tall order.

'And killing someone like that – someone who's lived for fucking ever could be really difficult,' Harry sighed.

'Maybe Jeroboam had the right idea?' Draco mused. 'Lock him up.'

'Somewhere the sun don't shine…' Hermione said, echoing a famous saying… 'That's it! We need to trap him in a place where there's no light! Darkness kills colour-magic.'

Draco gave her an appraising look. 'That might work, actually – would neutralise him. But where the hell has NO light?'

'A cave?' Harry suggested.

'Or a picture,' Hermione said, a thought forming at the back of her mind. 'A picture with all the light taken out. A picture that was sealed…'

Harry and Draco gave her a curious look.

'We'll have to discuss this with everybody when we get back,' Harry said.

'Oh, for sure!' Hermione said, 'it'd be a big operation. We'd need a lot of magic to pull it off.' She could faintly discern the idea in her mind's eye, twisting and turning reflectively. 'Who ordered this attack? Ephraim or Salvedra?'

'Thelonious thinks Ephraim - and our spook friend, Tim, contacted me. Apparently, Ephraim's offered the Prime Minister magical specialists to move into areas of concern to fend off future attacks.'

'That's clever,' Hermione frowned. 'Generate a magical catastrophe, send in your own troops to clean up the mess and establish a presence.'

'Have you seen Tim's messages?' Harry asked Draco. 'He says he's texted you a few times today.'

Draco scrolled through his phone, then paused. 'Ah, yes…'

'You should talk to him tomorrow when we get back,' Harry said.

'TOMORROW?' Hermione exclaimed.

'Yes. Tomorrow,' Harry said. 'Something's come up.'

'Have you told him?' Ginny said, sweeping into the living-room. She was rather glamorously-attired, Hermione thought… obviously the Potters had social plans.

'I was just getting to that…' Harry said. He clenched his lips in mild irritation. 'Draco… Briek and Gabrielle have been looking into the whereabouts of the Muggle who married Katya's mother. They think they've found him.'

'Okay…' Draco said coolly, 'and what – what does this mean?'

'Well, we're meeting them tonight to learn more, but it probably means we've found your daughter.'

XXX

China Club was strikingly atmospheric, its décor inspired by colonial 1930s Shanghai; dark-wood décor, red lanterns, a black and white checkered floor and sumptuous Chesterfield sofas. A plump, dark-eyed woman was singing on a small stage adorned with rich, red drapes, accompanied by a small jazz band. Her husky, sensual voice soared above the chattering buzz of diners.

The food was delicious and the wine excellent - and plentiful. But conversation was stilted, not helped by Ginny's refusal to even look at Draco. Hermione understood that she was angry, but part of her wondered why Ginny had even bothered to come...

Hermione found herself listening to the singer. There was something soulful and sad about her, even when she was smiling or belting out a happy tune, that felt like she was crying inside.

After dinner, they headed upstairs to a softly-lit cocktail bar stuffed with vintage bric-a-brac and tall feathered pot plants and collapsed onto three leather sofas ranged around a low table.

Briek updated them on Bernard Machon - the man he believed to be Anna's Muggle husband and Katya's stepfather.

Machon, formerly known as Bernard Gagnon and Henri LeBerre, was in a nursing home in Normandy. As a man of considerable independent wealth, he'd effectively bought anonymity by having several identities.

'So what's his REAL name?' Harry asked.

Briek shrugged. 'We might never know. But one thing's certain, his wife was always Fayana - that was ANNA. And they had a daughter, Rozella. But there's no record of Rozella attending Magical School... so she was probably a Squib.'

'We couldn't speak much to Bernard, unfortunately,' Gabrielle told the group while her husband wrestled open a bottle of champagne. 'The nurses said he has good days and bad days and to try another time.'

'He's often visited by his daughter and grand-daughter,' Briek added.

'And the daughter definitely matches Rozella's description?' Harry checked, accepting a flute of champagne.

'Tall, gorgeous redhead?' He winked at Ginny next to him. 'There's a Muggle photograph on his bedside table...'

'Where's this nursing home?' Hermione asked.

'Foret-la-Folie.'

'That's where Rozella's boat business was based,' Harry said. 'Sounds promising.'

'Or worrying...' Hermione muttered.

Draco arched a quizzical eyebrow. 'You're thinking Sylvestra?'

'It looked like she was heading towards that picture we used to get into the bakery. But then she turned back, so—'

'We'll go tomorrow.'

Gabrielle turned to Draco beside her. 'Hopefully your daughter will be there. I imagine you're longing to meet her.'

Draco nodded, but judging by his hangdog demeanour she might as well have been inviting him to his own funeral, Hermione thought.

'Do you think Bernard would be well enough to testify in a prosecution?' Harry asked Briek.

Briek vehemently shook his head.

Harry hid his disappointment by slurping back his flute of champagne before requesting a refill.

Briek went one better and ordered a decanter of cognac. 'Delamain de Voyage – one of the very best.' He passed a brimming glass across the table to Draco. 'Here's to hoping we've found your long-lost child!'

'But he's miserable as sin,' Ginny remarked after knocking back her cognac with surprising gusto. 'You do WANT your daughter, don't you, Malfoy?' It was the first time she'd properly acknowledged him.

'Of course I do,' Draco replied pithily. 'But Magda's aunt is the only mother she's ever known – hardly fair if I just swoop in and nab her, is it?'

'But don't you think a child should be with their PARENTS?'

'The circumstances aren't exactly ideal, are they?'

'You mean with her poor mother being banged up in a painting?' Ginny said breezily.

Harry looked like all the air was deflating from his lungs and he rolled his eyes in exasperation. 'No, he meant we have a bunch of fucking nutters wanting to start a war with the Muggles, Ginny… Please. Try and be TACTFUL.'

'Draco really hasn't got time right now to be raising a toddler,' Hermione argued.

Ginny's face hardened into a frown. 'Then you need to prioritise getting this child's mother out of the picture she's stuck in, don't you?' She rounded on Harry, eyes blazing. 'You think this too, Harry… you were telling me earlier.'

Everyone's eyes darted to Harry. 'Yes. I did say that, Ginny, but in a different context... Tim, the spy chap,' he explained, 'he's wanting to know when he can send a strike squad to take out Malfoy Manor, but he needs Draco to first secure the site.' He gave Draco a wary glance. 'He thinks Draco's ignoring him.'

'Destroying your family home isn't exactly a joyous prospect, is it now?' Draco retorted, as he raised his glass of cognac to his lips and downed it in one fell swoop.

'But one that can't be avoided forever,' Harry said. 'I think the Muggles will do it anyway… Tim's giving you a chance to get your mother out, Draco. It's a reasonable offer.'

'But it's not just his Mum that Malfoy has to salvage from Malfoy Manor, is it? That's what you said earlier, Harry.' Ginny was back to talking about Draco, not to him, Hermione noted. She fervently wished she was seated beside him, instead of marooned in the far corner of the sofa furthest from his own.

'You're obviously referring to my wife, Ginny. Just say it as it is,' Draco grunted.

'I'm saying your reluctance to talk to this Muggle person is because you don't want to rescue her painting.'

'Are you suggesting I want her to go up in flames with the rest of the place?' Draco protested, a fiery glint in his eye.

'Yes. I am.'

Draco shook his head in despair. 'Jesus Christ…'

'From what Harry's told me about this curse, it might be safer for your wife NOT to be extracted from this painting,' Briek suggested, his long fingers stroking his chin as he spoke.

'Certainly while Salvedra's still at large,' Harry agreed.

'That's pathetic. Immoral, even,' Ginny said vituperatively. 'You can't have someone trapped in a painting and just LEAVE them there! This woman deserves her life back!'

'Sure, but we don't actually know how these fucking prison-paintings work – let alone how to get someone out,' Draco said crabbily.

'And until Salvedra's disposed of, Katya can't be released without his consent,' Hermione added.

'Where there's a will there's a way,' Ginny insisted. 'And that's the problem. Do either of you have the will to try and get her out? It's very convenient for you having her locked away...'

Draco's face darkened. 'That's unfair. Hermione's nothing but kind about my wife!'

'But what about YOU?' Ginny said, wide-eyed. 'Do you want her back? She'll have gone through a terrible trauma, Malfoy... She'll be needing the support of a loving husband...'

'GINNY!' Harry warned, looking exasperated.

But Ginny ignored him. 'It'd be cruel to turn your back on her... Might be kinder to leave her to rot, and that way you won't have to choose...'

'There is no choice,' Draco said, lips tight.

'Not NOW there isn't.'

'I mean I've made my choice. Hermione.' He glared at Ginny, bristling with hostility.

'Easy to say now...' Ginny said in wheedling tones.

'Yes! Yes, it is.'

'Why?'

'Because I hate my wife. I'll never forgive her!'

Hermione felt her insides shrivel. 'No, Draco… you don't…' His anger was getting the better of him...

'But I do! How can I not?' His whiteness flared furiously, incandescent. 'Katya knew what was being done to Scorpius and didn't give a crap!'

'We don't know that for sure!'

'Yes, we do!' he snarled. 'Look at the facts and it's the only logical conclusion! It explains why she fucked off the way she did... which I get. I'm not a complete monster. I see why she was scared. But what I can't forgive - will NEVER forgive - is the fact she didn't warn me.'

'I don't know your situation well, Draco,' Briek said in kindly tones, 'only what Harry's told me, but she might have been scared about any number of things...things unconnected to what was happening to your poor son. Maybe she found out what your father-in-law was doing and freaked out?'

'Or maybe she just found out you were horribly unfaithful?' Ginny suggested.

'Oh, I think she knew that already,' Draco sighed. 'Believe me, there's been many times I've thought this whole thing was just a slow revenge - a way to fuck up my head. But the facts have changed... we know more now than we did. We know that my son was enduring shit no child should - to help those cunts make Dark Flux. And as much as I was in denial about the whole fucking thing, he was already sick and his language was fucking up BEFORE she left. Sure, it got a whole lot worse after, but ... that's the baseline reality.'

He stared at the group, white-faced, hollow-eyed...

'You can't assume she KNEW what was happening, Draco,' Briek said.

'No... I - I can't ASSUME,' Draco stammered, 'but something frightened the shit out of her because she begged Bill - was quite desperate about it, actually - to help her open this blasted Matryoshka thing she'd been sent. She found documents inside and a charm... And within days of reading that stuff she'd fucked off! Something confirmed her suspicions.'

'We've no idea what she read!' Hermione said heatedly. 'It might have been a broomstick cleaning manual for all we know! Without FACTS, Draco, we're pissing in the wind.'

'Hermione... that Matryoshka probably came from Svetlana, Anna's sister. We now know Anna stole Salvedra's work on how to make Dark Flux. And those papers are MISSING.'

'You think Katya read about how Dark Flux is made?'

Draco nodded. 'Yes, I do. And there she was... six months pregnant with an Epsilon+ kid, living in a house with a man with Gimlott's disease, no doubt realising her father's up to his eyeballs...'

'And with your Epsilon+ son getting sicker,' Harry cut in, 'yes, it makes sense... I've wondered this myself.' He shot a glance at Hermione. 'And so have you. We've talked about it.'

'Of course I have... because it's a possibility. But it isn't necessarily REALITY,' Hermione shot back.

'I think it is...' Draco said sadly. 'And I think you do, too, Hermione.' He held her gaze until she had to look away. 'It's the unthinkable,' he continued. 'My sweet, lovely wife found out what was happening to my son and rather than say or do anything to help him, she fucked off to avoid any risk of the same thing happening to her child - not giving a damn about mine!'

'Magda's YOUR child too, Draco!'

'But it should never have been a choice! You do what you have to do to save a child. ANY child!' His eyes were suddenly glossy with unshed tears… 'You walked into a room of certain DEATH to save two children in Vietnam you'd never even seen before! Katya lived with Scorpius. Day in, day out. Even if she only suspected something was wrong, she should have told me. But she didn't…'

'Maybe she was scared?' Gabrielle reasoned. 'Not thinking straight.'

Draco shrugged. 'I've no idea what she was thinking…'

'If you rescued her, you could ask,' Ginny said tartly, pouring herself another glass of cognac.

Draco visibly tensed and shot her a venomous look.

'Ginny's right,' Briek said, regarding Draco with droopy, saddened eyes. 'Your wife has the answers, Draco. And now that it looks like you know where she is, you can find them.'

Draco exhaled deeply... he placed his elbows on his knees and bent over, pushing his hands into his hair. 'I can see that,' he muttered. 'I'm just - I've got myself in a muddle... I want answers, but I can't forgive her... And Tim badgering me for rescue plans isn't helping matters.'

'He doesn't know the full situation,' Harry pointed out. 'But decisions have to be made. Even if we don't enjoy making them.'

'I just - I just want it to go away.'

'It's the same for me too,' Hermione sighed. Better to be honest... 'The thought of Katya being back terrifies me! Because I love you... Every fucking shitty little bit of you.' Draco twisted his face to look at her. 'But when I entered that tower in the picture and heard a woman crying, it was the most pitiful, frightening thing I've ever heard. What she's going through must be terrible. Which means, whatever you feel about her, whatever's happened, we have to do everything we can to set her free... Because it's the right thing to do.'

Draco slowly nodded. 'I know,' he conceded in a harsh, grating voice.

'Only then can you resolve everything,' Gabrielle reasoned.

'And move on,' Draco said with a grimace, pouring himself another cognac.

'Not quite,' Ginny said. 'Because with these new laws you CAN'T move on… Hermione can't be with you and her children at the same time.'

'Yes she can,' Harry piped up. 'They can move here. To Paris.'

But Draco wasn't listening. He moved to a stool at the bar and cradled his glass of cognac, head bowed.

Moments later, Hermione joined him. She curled her arms around his neck and rested her cheek against his, not caring that his stubble scraped against her skin.

XXX

Briek rented an MPV and they headed into the Normandy countryside. They drove through Foret-la-Folie to a hamlet, comprising little more than a deserted farmhouse and a redbrick, boxy building, Bernard's nursing home.

'We can't all go in,' Hermione said once they'd parked and got out of the car. She was glad to stretch her legs. 'Six of us would be rather daunting for an old man.'

'Doubt we'd all be allowed,' Ginny said. 'Anyway, there's no point me going in. I'll wait here.'

'He might not speak very good English,' Harry pointed out. 'And even if he does, he's old and infirm and we can't have him getting confused.' He gave Hermione a regretful look. 'Sorry. That means French-speakers only.'

'Plus - you look like his dead wife… ' Draco added. 'I won't go in, either, and neither should you, Harry. We were total arses when we confronted Rozella back in January. She might have told him.'

'Okay,' Briek said smoothly, clearly having anticipated this outcome all along. 'Gabrielle and I can handle this. Now we have to be very clear what we say and what you want us to learn…'

XXX

Draco and Harry stood 'on guard' at the main entrance to the car park, staring at their phones and occasionally guffawing at the other in loud celebration. Hermione was grateful to Harry. He'd been up half the night talking with Draco while she slept on the Potters' uncomfortable sofa.

'What in Merlin's hell are they doing?' Ginny asked, brows knitted in confusion.

'Oh, it's some online game thing they've got into…' Hermione cast an anxious glance at Ginny.

Ginny was staring fixedly at Harry, a look of dark incomprehension clouding her handsome features. She shivered a little, rubbing her arms for warmth. 'It was boiling yesterday.'

Hermione agreed, despairing inside. Was this what they were reduced to? Talking about the weather? She sighed and moved onto another conversational stalwart…

'What are the kids up to today?'

'They're at Arnaud's. They've got a new puppy…'

'Oh, that's nice,' Hermione smiled. ARNAUD? Who the hell was Arnaud? She felt she should recognise the name...

Ginny pulled a tissue from her pocket and blew her nose. The trumpeting sound shocked a tree-full of birds beside them into flight. 'Hayfever,' she said apologetically, 'never used to get it till I had Lily. I've tried every potion on the market!'

Hermione, luckily, knew a great deal about potions for various ailments – anything to fill the void…

Ginny listened intently, her rich, brown eyes focusing on Hermione's face as she spoke… 'Arnaud could always teach Rose and Hugo as well,' she suddenly blurted.

'What do you mean?' Hermione stammered. It seemed silly for Arnaud to travel all the way to Ottery St Catchpole…

'If you're living in Paris…' Ginny stumbled to a halt.

'If I— What?'

'If you have to live in Paris. Because of these laws.' Ginny's mouth shut tight, almost as though she felt she'd said too much.

'Well… the kids get on I suppose.'

Ginny's eyes flicked to Harry who was craning to see something on Draco's phone and laughing. 'We could share the cost... and some lessons could be held at yours. My lot will still go to Hogwarts, though.'

'Yes, of course… Mine, too,' Hermione said with greater gusto than that small sentence was ever intended for. Part of her felt like grabbing Ginny and hugging her but she gave her a small, shy smile instead and looked away. 'They've been a long time.'

Moments later, Briek and Gabrielle were rounding the corner of the building, wreathed in smiles. Draco and Harry jogged towards them.

Briek put his arm around Gabrielle and looked at her with doting fondness. 'This one could charm the birds from the trees!' he said proudly.

Gabrielle held out a silver charm. 'He gave me this to give to YOU, Draco,' she said. 'He says it's their last one. You should already have the others.'

Draco stared at the rose in his hand.

'But it can't be the last!' Hermione said. 'The necklace needs THIRTEEN charms to hear a message. This only makes twelve.'

Draco passed her the rose, looking deflated.

'We asked Bernard about the time Katya disappeared,' Briek said, with the sorry air of a man breaking bad news. 'All he remembers is a bunch of wizards Apparating into the château grounds. He didn't recognise anybody. To this day he thinks Katya was murdered or kidnapped so was glad to hear she's still alive… We said she's in hiding.'

'But he didn't see much of what happened because Katya hid him in a tunnel,' Gabrielle added. 'It runs underneath the old château.'

'Why were they even at this château?' Ginny asked. 'Isn't it meant to be ruined?'

'It's HIS,' Briek said. 'He bought it for Anna, but then she went mad and became rather frightening - so he moved out with Rozella to a cottage on the estate.'

'We know Rozella got away in a car… but does Bernard know what happened to Magda?' Harry asked.

'She was in the car, too. In a car-seat. Wizards wouldn't think about that, would they?' Gabrielle said, eyes shining.

'Sweet wee thing,' Briek grinned. 'He showed us her photograph… only lives a few miles from here.'

Draco looked like a thousand and one emotions were rolling through him in the space of a second… He exhaled deeply and for a moment Hermione feared he might fall to the ground. She dashed forwards and let him lean against her and they turned away from the others.

She could feel his whiteness flowing through her – a gushing torrent.

'Do you want to visit her, Draco?' came Briek's voice behind them. 'Bernard said Rozella won't mind. She's been speaking about you quite a lot lately.'

Draco leant over and placed his hands on his knees, as though winded. 'Yes…' he whispered to Hermione.

'YES. Yes, he would,' Hermione called back.

XXX

'So did Bernard know Katya well?' Hermione asked Briek once they'd all crammed into the MPV and were weaving through high-hedged country lanes.

'I don't think so,' Briek called back from the driver's seat. 'Sounds like she was much closer to Rozella and his wife's sister. What was her name again?' He looked to Gabrielle beside him for prompting.

'Svetlana…' Gabrielle twisted around to face Hermione and Draco. 'Bernard said Anna was close to her sister. Anna had some heirlooms, passed down through the family over many generations. When she started to lose her mind she gave them to her sister for safekeeping - I think they included those rose-charms. But there were others too that he didn't remember...'

'The Matryoshka...' Hermione muttered.

'He didn't mention one. However, Anna also entrusted some secret documents to Svetlana. Bernard didn't understand what they were, though – or if he ever did, he's long since forgotten.'

Draco gave Hermione a meaningful look, but it was far from triumphant; more steeped in sorrow. He was right, she thought... Svetlana had Salvedra's papers on Dark Flux, meaning Katya had probably seen them, too.

Hermione looked out at the green woodlands jumping past their windows. They passed a crossroads and Briek slowed a little, turning into a narrow country lane, bordered by dense woodland.

Gabrielle looked at Draco with wide, blue eyes. 'Bernard always presumed Katya visited you when she went back to England after her child was born. He said something had spooked her - he didn't know what - and she planned to give you something. He was surprised when we said you hadn't seen her since the day she left.'

Draco shook his head. 'I didn't even know she was in the country! That was when she went to Gringott's… triggering the trace on her money. It's how she was traced to here.'

Briek took up the narrative, swiping his hands rapidly over the steering wheel to maintain control of the car as it bounced over muddy ruts on the narrowing country track.. 'Looks like Katya visited her aunt in Paris first… because after she'd vanished, Svetlana paid Bernard and Rozella a visit. She was very nervous, apparently; wanted them to know where she'd stowed Katya's silver rose charms and what to do with them.'

'Looks like Svetlana was a canny old bird,' Harry called from the jump-seat tucked up at the rear. 'Once she realised Ephraim's lot were onto Katya, she knew she was in danger, too - needed a backup plan.'

Hermione looked ahead… the black, carcass of a once-grand château was coming into view, framed by tall trees.

'Poor man couldn't remember any more and there was no point pressing,' Gabrielle sighed.

'This place is the Château d'Orgueilleux,' Briek announced, drawing everyone's attention to its hulking black skeleton.

'Such a sad-looking place,' Ginny murmured.

But Hermione wasn't looking at the château. Her eyes had been drawn to the small, brackenish lake it overlooked. A lake surrounded by a ring of bulrushes and at its edge a squat stone tower with a conical roof, reflected in the water. The tower was covered in ivy and brambles, covering up a small narrow window nestling under the rafters.

The sky had been mottled with low grey clouds, but rich, golden sunshine was breaking cover, and the surface of the lake trembled, glowing copper-bright.

Draco turned to look at her. His face had drained of colour. 'Well. There's no doubt we're in the right place.'

'Will Rozella and Magda be at the château?' Harry asked, raising his voice from the back.

'No,' Briek said, screeching the MPV to a halt – facing the lake and the quaint little tower.

It was a classic medieval 'folly,' Hermione thought. A decorative feature, more than anything. A place for secret lovers' trysts, or a prison for a fairytale princess…

'I think our best bet is to head into the ruins and find this tunnel… it leads straight to the cottage, apparently,' Briek said.

Everyone was disgorging from the car and the party moved towards the castle… it looked sharp and austere and Hermione blinked back an overpowering sense of blank darkness that emanated from its gutted shell…. She didn't want to go in there if she could help it.

She looked around, her eyes furtively scanning the woodlands that formed a natural boundary around them.

The space encompassed by the trees resembled a giant teardrop, she thought – the château and the lake capped by the frivolous little tower at its furthest point.

A plume of purplish smoke rose up from the trees stretching rightwards from the tower. 'The cottage. It's over there!' she yelped.

Everybody Apparated beyond the lake and the folly to a thick clump of woodland. A path-of-sorts – more trodden leaves and crushed crocuses – wound through the trees to a small, one-storey wooden building. The sun barely penetrated through the thick canopy of trees here and in the dim light it looked like the archetypal woodcutter's cottage in the storybooks Hermione had read as a child.

'You okay?' she said to Draco, who marched alongside her, head bent, stern-faced.

He blinked in surprise as though jolted from a trance. 'Yeah… Fine.' He flexed his hand and she slipped her fingers between his, giving him a brief reassuring squeeze.

Was he regretting this? she wondered. His life was about to change forever…

They stopped outside the cottage. The door was closed and it was silent.

'I don't think anyone's in,' Harry said peevishly.

Ginny peered through the dusty window. 'Oh! There's a little old lady! She just waved…' And the front door opened and a bent old woman stumbled out, greeting Ginny in a voluble, excitable volley of French.

Briek stepped forwards and shook the lady's hand and replied.

'She thinks you're Rozella!' Gabrielle giggled. 'She's a bit blind.'

Briek beckoned them indoors. It was a tight squeeze once everyone had filed inside. Hermione glanced around the small, low-ceilinged room with the remains of a fire smouldering in the fireplace. It was in a state of considerable disarray and definitely non-magical: designed for Muggle living.

The old lady was offering coffee and hunting down biscuits for her unexpected guests. Everyone was refusing and making polite conversation.

Hermione spotted a mussed-up crown of light brown curls stuck out from under a blue blanket on a couch in the corner. The small body heaved in soft, sighing breaths… fast asleep.

She edged closer and looked down at Magda Malfoy.

Her eyes were scrunched tight and her white cheek was stained with the rosy heat of sleep… Hermione imagined her skin was soft as down. She looked peaceful, clutching a worn, white rabbit toy. A tiny child... Hermione thought. Smaller than Rose at the same age.

Hermione was so busy staring she barely noticed Draco standing next to her. She could feel his whiteness encircling her, trying to grasp onto something…

'It's okay,' she whispered. 'She's just a child... And you're a wonderful father, Draco.' She wouldn't have said that a few months ago, but she truly believed that now.

'She looks very contented,' he said, and his whole body seemed to sigh with relief.

Hermione smiled warmly and her eyes moved from Draco to the neatly tucked-in child, then back to their disorderly surroundings; a jarring contrast.

Drawers were flung open, contents tipped out and scattered, a cupboard door was hanging loose, a pitcher of water had fallen over, its contents spilling onto a pile of crumpled linens on the floor…

Her face fell. Something violent and angry had happened here.

Hermione looked again at the slumbering child, sleeping very heavily, despite the loud conversation and Briek's bellowing laughter.

She picked up and smelt an empty, tin beaker on a table beside the couch.

'What are you doing?' Draco asked quizzically.

Ginny came over, grinning. 'She's lovely!' she said in hushed tones.

'No need to whisper. She won't hear you,' Hermione said, lips pursed. She passed the beaker to Ginny who recoiled.

'Blimey! That's strong!'

'Isn't it?' Hermione said crossly, looking daggers at the old woman. 'Who IS she?'

'A lady from the village. Rozella's been travelling a fair bit these past few days so this old lady's been babysitting.' Ginny put down the beaker with a scornful shake of the head. 'I can't imagine Rozella would be happy if she thought Magda was being drugged!'

Draco sniffed the beaker and looked alarmed. 'Should we say something?'

'No… she'll be fine. But it's lazy,' Ginny sneered. 'She's going now…' And sure enough, the old lady was tripping down the path away from the cottage.

'She's an angel,' Gabrielle said, sitting down at the foot of the couch, gazing soft-eyed at the sleeping child. Magda emitted a little whimper, like a kitten's mew, and moved onto her back, her little pink mouth open.

'She's been given a sleeping draught,' Hermione said archly to Harry and Briek. 'A very strong one.'

'They're moving house later and Rozella's been packing… maybe she didn't want Magda to get upset by it all?' Briek suggested brightly.

'So now we've found Magda,' Harry said, businesslike, 'we don't all need to hang around waiting for Rozella to get back…' He looked at Draco. 'This is a private family matter… so I suggest we all clear out and let Draco… and Hermione get on with it.'

But the moment he stopped talking there was a shrill cry from the woods. Briek and Harry instantly hastened out, followed by Hermione.

They squinted down the pathway towards the dazzling light from the lake that glinted between green mossy tree-trunks further down the path, but there was no sign of the source of the cry.

'That was a woman,' Harry said, his face tight with consternation.

'The old woman…' Briek added. 'Maybe she's fallen?' He was already sprinting away from the cottage.

'Hang on,' Harry said, chasing after him.

'What was that?' Draco asked. He looked pale and waxy in the shadows cast by the trees overhanging the cottage.

'They think the old woman fell…'

Draco grasped her wrist as she turned to go back inside. 'Hermione…' he hissed. 'Something doesn't feel right.'

His eyes were large and dark. Fearful.

'What – what do you mean?' He was right, though… She could sense it.

Draco looked past her towards Ginny and Gabrielle cooing over the sleeping child … then back to Hermione. He licked his lower lip, torn.

'Why's Rozella moving away?' he said quietly.

'Without telling her father…' Hermione added, filling in the blanks.

'Something – or someone's spooked her,' Draco asserted. 'So I reckon we take off – with Magda – and then get a message to Rozella and explain what we've done.'

'But isn't that kidnapping?'

'I'm her father… And there's – there's something we're not seeing here.' He pushed his hand through his hair and sighed. 'I can feel it…'

Hermione placed her hand on his arm and was surprised to feel him vibrating.

His eyes flicked to the lake gleaming below them. 'Where are they?'

'They went to help the old lady.'

Draco snapped his eyes back to Hermione… To her surprise, he laid a hand on her shoulder and kissed her on the forehead. 'I'm going to see where they've got to. Stay with Magda, Beautiful.'

Gabrielle looked up. 'Where's everyone gone?'

Hermione scanned the small cottage for clues. What was Rozella really up to? This 'move' was clearly driven by urgency.

She noticed a picture above the fireplace was askew and moved to fix it, her foot stumbling against the grate. A flurry of hot grey ash flew upwards… she battened it away and in so doing a curled-up photo in the grate caught her attention.

She quickly pulled it from the ashes and scooped it clean… Rozella standing next to a small, plastic slide. Magda beaming at the top, her round cheeks dimpled and her eyes slitted in merriment.

Ginny looked at her, a worried frown on her face. 'What is it?'

Hermione showed her the photo.

'There's a tunnel from here to the château,' Hermione said, suddenly churning with fear. 'Take Magda and get to the car… Don't wait for us.'

Gabrielle stood up slowly from the couch. 'What's wrong?'

'I don't know.' She locked eyes with Ginny who nodded.

'Come on, Gabby… let's find this tunnel,' she said in commanding tones.

Hermione turned and ran.

XXX

Her heart was thumping loudly in her chest and she was panting – short, harsh pants. Yes, something was very wrong… Why had Rozella tried to burn a photo of herself and the child she no doubt loved? What was she trying to hide?

She heard voices by the lake… The three men talking to a woman.

Rozella… Tall and elegant, her red hair gleaming in the sun. Even from this distance, Hermione could see she was as charming as she'd remembered.

But there was something strange about her… a slight glitching shimmer…

Rather than join them, Hermione struck right and scooted around the back of the tower. She was familiar with this terrain. She'd already traversed a version of it in the painting which held Katya captive. The tower was less imposing, a brighter, cleaner proposition in reality – although choked by straggling skeins of ivy, the stones threaded by weaving vines. She jogged to the other side of the lake and faced the men. Rozella had her back to her.

That peculiar shimmer… it was still there… disrupting her reflection… Indeed, it was as though Rozella's reflection had been transposed from the water into reality.

Staring at her juddering form made Hermione's eyes ache…

Rozella turned to laugh at something Briek had said… in profile, her features were aquiline-sharp, rather like Gunter's … But there was a peculiar doubling effect, a hovering overlay, and for a heart-stopping moment Hermione felt like a second face had wheeled around and spotted her…

Draco was gazing across the lake and his face was stiff with concern. He kept rubbing his eye and his hand was gripping his wand. What was he trying to tell her?

Her eyes! That was it! She leaned over to check her reflection in the lake.

Her eyes were a thick, glossy black – and they were looking straight at Rozella, her long, auburn hair entangled in the reeds and the roots of the water lilies that coated much of the lake's surface. Her face was grey, her eyes staring and her mouth gaped open… likely dead before she hit the water, Hermione thought mournfully.

She lifted her eyes to the opposite bank, cold dread trickling through her.

Sylvestra...

Polyjuice, Hermione thought - and possibly a glamour. But once she'd cut the deal with Dolores – a deal to hand over Magda in exchange for Katya - it wasn't necessary to impersonate Rozella anymore - and now poor Rozella was dead in the lake. Maybe that was why she'd been forced to 'touch up' with colour-magic? Their arrival had surprised her.

Hermione could now sense Sylvestra's cloying blankness… scenting her presence.

She took a deep breath and summoned a powerful surge of colour-magic - and was about to let rip when a violent force suddenly slashed the lake in two and a glistening grey shield sprang up... mounting higher and higher…

Sylvestra flung Harry backwards with a brisk twist of her wrist and Briek crumpled to the ground, clutching his arm and squealing in pain.

The moment the lake's waters lurched, Draco sprinted towards the château - and then vanished. Maybe he'd Apparated to the cottage to protect Magda?

The shield continued to climb but there was still a gap. Hermione knew she had to attack now, before it sealed... Gritting her teeth, she unleashed a scalding blast of colour-magic in Sylvestra's direction - but to her surprise the magic slipped off her and slithered away… NOT NORMAL, she thought furiously...

Sylvestra burst into loud, pealing laughter. 'Is that all you've got?' she shouted. Her voice sounded bubbly, blurred, as though she was yelling underwater.

'Okay. Let's do this the old-fashioned way,' Hermione hissed, drawing her wand – to Sylvestra's mocking hilarity - and throwing a string of powerful shield-busting spells in Sylvestra's direction… but the shield was impervious to assault. And Hermione was sweating so hard with the effort and with heart-pumping fear, she could barely hold her wand.

She targeted the shield again and again, growing ever more fraught...

'Your silly little spells can't touch me,' Sylvestra jeered as she rapidly moved towards the tower. Any moment now and she'd Apparate to her side of the lake, Hermione felt sure…

She glanced at Briek, writhing in pain and Harry on the ground beside him, eyes closed.

Harry. She needed Harry in play…

Distract her, she thought, and her eyes were drawn to the tower.

Stepping back from the banks of the lake, Hermione levelled a momentous Expulso at the folly, trembling with the effort.

A thunderous explosion tore through the front of the tower and masonry, stone and a heavy steel girder collapsed with a tumultuous splash into the lake. The water unexpectedly surged and Sylvestra shrieked - the shield wavering as her concentration faltered.

'Rennervate!' Hermione screeched, targeting Harry.

Harry's eyes flipped open as he jolted into consciousness.

Hermione targeted the tower again and this time its conical roof shuddered and creaked and a flurry of tiles span through the air, raining down onto the ground like brick-sized bullets from the sky.

Sylvestra scrambled to conjure another shield to resist the hail of projectiles flying towards her – but was thrown backwards by a pounding spell from Harry. She circled high into the air, flailing feet over head, and would have tumbled into the seething water behind her…. but with a guttural roar she managed to upright herself, suspended over the lake, and somersaulted Harry backwards with a wave of her hand.

There was a swirling blur of whitish-grey as she manically retracted her shield, wrapping it around her… but Hermione finally saw her chance – the chink in Sylvestra's armour - and was about to strike when Draco burst out of the water and scythed the air with a powerful Confringo.

The spell snatched at Sylvestra through a small crack in the shield – not enough to destroy or injure - but her glorious mane of hair burst into flames and she screamed in pain, gyrating wildly.

She lashed out with an almighty burst of colour-magic, transforming the lake beneath her into a foaming froth. The ground beneath the water reared upwards, mulching the lake into a filthy, muddied stew.

Hermione gaped in horror as Rozella's body, tangled in weeds and mud, was flung into the broiling swamp…

DRACO… Where was Draco? She felt faint with panic…

'I'm here,' he said… soaked but unscathed beside her. They targeted Sylvestra's shield together, battering it relentlessly until there were discernible cracks opening up as Sylvestra yowled, frantically trying to extinguish the flames engulfing her head.

'You fucking WHORE!' she screeched at Hermione, face deranged, her voice booming. 'You're DEAD!'

But Harry had clambered to his feet, fwoofer wand raised, and his face was consumed by darkness. Sylvestra's mouth fell open in horror at the sight of him – and she vanished and the shield disintegrated, falling into the lake like fluorescent blue rain.

Hermione instantly Apparated to Briek's side. He was shaking uncontrollably and drooling from the mouth… a chain of scorching-hot golden scales was creeping up his arm, almost reaching his shoulder.

Hermione grabbed his hand, flinching at the intense heat that met her touch, and speedily pushed her colour inside him… his arm quivered and he screwed up his eyes in agony. But the scales were peeling away… and he gradually calmed.

'Mon Dieu,' he moaned, 'that's one scary witch … du diable!'

'I think she IS the devil, actually,' Draco growled.

They could hear a child crying from the direction of the château.

'Rozella…' Hermione murmured, casting a mournful look at her body, strafed with choking weeds and algae, as it gradually sank into the slurried mud…

'Let me deal with her,' Harry said. 'Get to the car.'

XXX

Gabrielle passed Magda to Hermione. The child twisted her arms around Hermione's neck and lay her head on her shoulder, hiccupping as she sobbed quietly…

'I think we'll come back with you to Britain,' Briek said, trying to muster a smile. 'I've just landed on that crazy woman's radar and there's safety in numbers.'

'But what about poor Bernard?' Gabrielle said sorrowfully. 'Someone needs to go and break the news…'

'Does he have to know his daughter's dead?' Briek said tremulously. 'No parent should ever have to hear something like that… it's unnatural.'

'But he'll notice when she doesn't visit,' Ginny said.

'I'll speak to him,' Draco said. He looked at Magda nestling against Hermione and gently stroked her hair. She could sense warm affection coursing through him. Magda's cheek was wet with tears against Hermione's face, but she was quiet now. 'Will you come with me?' he asked Hermione, almost timidly.

'Of course I will.'

'I won't say Rozella died… I'll say she had to go away - somewhere amazing – and she asked me to look after Magda while she's gone.'

'He'll want to see her, too,' Hermione said. 'She's his family.'

'And he still will…'

'I'll come in with you,' Gabrielle said. 'I can translate.'

Harry ran towards them with his phone pressed to his ear. He quickly killed the call he'd been on. 'I've got Francoise coming with a team to clear this up,' he said, looking grey and devastated. 'Let's get out of here.'

XXX

CHAPTER TRACKS:

"NEVER TEAR US APART" by INXS

"HEROES" by DAVID BOWIE

"FALLEN ALIEN" by FKA TWIGS

"JAG VET EN DEJLIG ROSA" by ROBYN

Disclaimer: I own nothing except my original characters.